"Tell me the weight of a snowflake," a sparrow asked a wild dove. "Nothing more than nothing," was the answer. "In that case, I must tell you a story," the sparrow said.

"I sat on the branch of a fir, close to its trunk, when it began to snow lightly. Since I did not have anything better to do, I counted the snowflakes settling on the twigs and needles of my branch. Their number was 3,741,952. When the 3,742,953rd snowflake dropped onto the branch, "nothing more than nothing," as you say, the branch broke off."

Having said that, the sparrow flew away. The dove, since Noah's time an authority on the matter, thought about the story for a while, and finally said to herself, "Perhaps there is only one person's voice lacking for peace to come to the world."

~ Author Unknown

Dust Of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Robert Frost (1875 - 1963)

Snow Towards Evening

Suddenly the sky turned gray,
The day,
Which had been bitter and chill,
Grew soft and still.

Quietly
From some invisible blossoming tree
Millions of petals cool and white
Drifted and blew
Lifted and flew,
Fell with the falling night.

~Melville Cane

Snow Flakes

Every snowflake that falls
is a creation from the heart
each pattern unique
a sharing work of art
they stick together
and form a blanket of white
that reflects the beauty
by moonlight
trees of evergreen
crested with the coat as well
carry the scent
throughout the dell
snowflakes falling
memories calling
to the time of our youth
blue shadows fall
winter has made its call
Another of God's creations
a visual truth

~ Tom Atterberry

Snow-flakes

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the wood lands brown and and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confessions,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Nature is painting for us,
day after day,
pictures of infinite beauty.
If only we have the eyes to see them.

~John Ruskin

Follow the link/giftie above to Di's Christmas 2002 Card

Click on the globe to visit Wendy's Holidays 2002 pages. Thank you Wendy!!

Janella's Christmas Quilt - Delightful!!

Season's Greetings From Diane (HarperKay)

A Christmas Poem by Shirley

Thank you Barbara!!!

Dorothy's beautiful ornament. Thank you!!!

Below is my gift to you.

Merry Christmas - Happy New Year!!!

When Jack Frost sends you a winter storm,
be sure you keep your carrot warm!!

© Southern Elegance Christmas 2002
Snowflake tubes courtesy of Wendy via Ronnie
Falling snowflake java script courtesy of Dynamic Drive
Inspiration courtesy of Mother Nature